Failed Aspirations
by Talking Hawk
Summary: Legolas and his father struggle to get along, and Gimli tries to help out. No slash.


Failed Aspirations  
  
By Talking Hawk  
  
Author's Note: There is a brief scene of violence in this story that is PG- 13ish, but since the rest of it is G, I compromised and made it PG. In other news, I would like to say something to those who have reviewed my stories: thank you, thank you, thank you. You guys/gals are the nicest reviewers! Okay, that's it. =) On with the story!  
  
"An ale and a water, please," Legolas told the bartender as both he and his dwarf friend sat down at the counter of the pub. Gimli eyed his companion suspiciously. "What is the matter with you, a non-drinking elf?" Legolas smirked at Gimli, and nodded in thanks to the bartender as he handed them their drinks. "Never liked the stuff, that's all." The elf took a swig of his water, but Gimli wasn't about to let this go.  
  
"How could you NOT like ale?" the dwarf insisted, taking a gulp of his own drink. "Don't tell me you've never tried it…" Legolas looked down thoughtfully at his cup for a moment, and said, "Well, I did drink some wine once." "And?" Gimli pressed.  
  
The elf raised an eyebrow at the dwarf and asked, "Are you SURE you want to hear this?" Gimli chuckled, and nodded. Legolas looked away, sighing. "Well, when I was a young elf, maybe twenty, I sneaked into my father's feast. I hid beneath the covered tables and swiped a bottle of some of their best wine." The elf cringed in repulse. "I took one drink from it…" he said, taking another sip from his water, "and threw up the rest of the night." Not to Legolas' surprise, the dwarf burst out into laughter, but after recovering slightly, patted the elf chummily on the back. The elf rolled his eyes, and took a huge gulp of his water.  
  
At that moment, another elf walked into the pub. He had long, blonde hair – longer than that of Legolas' – that he pulled back into a half- ponytail, with the rest falling down over his cape-covered shoulders. He walked about light-footedly and with authority, and was definitely older than Legolas.  
  
The two companions turned at the same time to the newcomer. Gimli looked skeptically at him, while Legolas' eyes grew wide with surprise. To Gimli's bewilderment, the elf approached the two. "Master Legolas?" the elf inquired with surprise. After a moment, Legolas slowly nodded his head, his eyes still wide. "What a relief to find you!" the other said, shaking his hand enthusiastically and taking a seat next to Legolas.  
  
"Artuin," Legolas uttered breathlessly, "what are you doing here?" Artuin grinned, and said, "Why, I was looking for you. I just had no idea that I would find you this soon." Legolas raised an eyebrow, and Gimli leaned over the counter to look at the stranger. Artuin caught sight of the dwarf, and leaned his head over the counter to look back at him. Gimli narrowed his eyes.  
  
Legolas laughed nervously and said, "Pardon me for being so forgetful. This," he indicated, putting a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, "is my friend, Gimli. Gimli? Meet Artuin, my father's personal adviser." Gimli raised his eyebrow, but accepted the other elf's welcoming handshake. "Would you like a drink?" Legolas offered politely.  
  
"Oh, no, I'm quite all right," Artuin declined gratefully. "I just got a bit of water from the stream. I am afraid, however, that we must get straight to business." Legolas looked first at Gimli, then nervously back at the other elf. "Is everything all right back in Mirkwood?" Artuin looked down into his lap for a moment then said, "Oh, I wish there was an easy way to say this, but I'm afraid I'll have to be frank." The younger elf pricked his ears, giving the other his full attention, and Artuin looked up at him sadly. "Mirkwood is in danger of falling under attack by the spiders."  
  
To Artuin's surprise, Legolas cocked an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. Gimli shuddered in the background. "Spiders? I'm afraid you're sick with worry over nothing. Back when I was a boy, I made a point of killing one each day. I do not see why you are so nervous about a slight infestation of them." Gimli looked up worriedly at his friend, and touched his shoulder. Legolas turned around and looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Do not be so eager to brush off his words, Master Legolas," Gimli said in a frightened tone. "I have heard my father's stories of them. Nasty creatures they are. If it wasn't for Master Bilbo Baggins, he surely would have been murdered by him." "Not to offend you," Legolas responded briskly, "but your father was no larger than them. I'm sure you and your father would look at them differently if you were elves." Gimli narrowed his eyes, but Artuin coughed to attract all eyes back to him. Legolas turned to him, listening intently.  
  
"I'm afraid the dwarf's quite right," Artuin said gravely. "It is not a slight overpopulation problem that we are dealing with, but the breeding of new and more devious spiders. Not only are they as strong as their parents were, but they are much cleverer now. They can read, they can trick, and they can lie. And," the elf said, his eyes growing frightful, "they can dig." Legolas' eyes widened once more upon hearing these three words. "No…" he whispered in awe. Artuin nodded, confirming this. "They have already started burrowing down beneath the gates. I have warned your father of this, but he refuses to make his people timid by a 'mere infestation of pests.' I wish it were just that, but the fact of the matter is, it isn't. Your majesty," the elf said, taking Legolas' hand respectfully, and bowing his head to it, "it is up to you now. Our kingdom will be lost without you."  
  
Legolas' hand slipped out of the other elf's, and he looked mournfully at him. He then blinked his eyes slowly, and turned back to gaze at the wall behind the counter. Gimli leaned back in his chair to exchange glances with the other elf as his friend looked pensively at the wall. "I'm sorry," the prince finally said. "I cannot go back." Artuin's eyebrows turned upward in a distressed manner, and gazed at the other elf. "I'm sorry," Legolas whispered, and sadly sipped at his water.  
  
"Master Legolas," Artuin said quietly, leaning in towards his prince, "I know that you have had difficulties with your father in the past, but I know you. You won't abandon your people to the mercy of the spiders." Legolas slowly turned his eyes to his old friend, the elvish counselor.  
  
* * *  
  
"Who goes there?" an elvish guard cried out as three figures appeared out of the forest. There were two elves, and a perturbed-looking dwarf. "The prince of Mirkwood!" the older elf announced, and the two guards exchanged nervous glances. Together, they bowed. "Your majesty!"  
  
"Open the gates," the councilor ordered, and the guards complied. They unlocked the locked metal, and opened the door for them. The two elves entered solemnly, not exchanging glances with the guards, but Gimli looked up at the bowing elf guard. He glared angrily at the dwarf, and in retaliation, snorted his nose curtly.  
  
The three walked down a sloping pathway as the walls of the ground's surface rose quickly over their heads. They soon came to another door, also guarded by two elves. The same exchange of information was given, and the guard begrudgingly opened the door to the dwarf. "Speciests," he grumbled out of his breath once all three of them had passed through the doorway. "I wonder who was also like that," Legolas said solemnly, looking out of the corner of his eye at his companion, hoping that this conversation would serve to ease both their nerves. The dwarf "humphed" and his elvish friend grinned.  
  
* * *  
  
Legolas and Gimli sat in the dining hall, nervously glancing about the room and their empty plates. They were both waiting for Artuin to return with the king, and neither felt much like chatting. Gimli kept on uneasily glancing at the dining room doors, half-expecting his father, Thorin, and the rest of the dwarves to be marched through them by the guards. The main reason why he had been so reluctant to trust elves, Gimli realized, was because of that particular story of his father's travels and trials to reclaim the treasure from the Lonely Mountain. 'That was a long time ago,' Gimli thought to himself, trying to reassure himself that the same thing wouldn't happen twice. Long before his father Gloin had met his mother, gotten married, and he or his elder and kin brothers came along. He glanced timidly at his companion, who sat quietly, staring at his empty plate.  
  
It wasn't difficult for Gimli to guess that his friend wasn't worried about food. It would come soon enough, and the two could survive well enough without food if need be. Something else was obviously bothering the young elf, whose eyes wouldn't even take a break to blink. To both their surprise, the door on the opposite side of the room opened, and a thick- shouldered, blonde elf appeared. He walked solemnly to the nearest end of the long dining table, with Artuin following suit. A servant came out and pulled out the exceptionally large chair for the king, and he quietly took a seat. Artuin seated himself on the king's right, glancing apprehensively at the two others.  
  
The servant quickly left the room, and within a few seconds, waiters were carrying out the first course of dinner. As the waiters put salad and other vegetables on their empty plates, Legolas looked at his father. He felt as if his father was in another world, or at least another room. The great table stretched about fifty feet, and they were both seated at opposite ends. This wouldn't be a problem to the conversation, as the elf had grown up used to raising his voice just the right volume to be audible at the other end.  
  
"So," his father started, gazing down at his food, "I haven't seen you in awhile – about ten years." He stabbed a few pieces of crunchy lettuce with his fork, and lifted it to his mouth. He chewed the salad, and looked at his son for a response. Legolas' hands were gripped to the arms of his chair in uneasiness. "What have you been doing?" Thranduil, the king, pressed.  
  
"Traveling the land, meeting new people," Legolas uttered quickly, focusing his eyes on his plate. He didn't dare to look into his father's cold conversational eyes. Gimli raised an eyebrow in questioning. "I see you have brought a friend," Thranduil remarked, turning his attention to the dwarf.  
  
"Yes, he's Gimli," Legolas continued in the same tone. "He hunts and travels with me." The king nodded, and asked, "How did you two meet?" "At the Council of Elrond," the young elf said, then winced. He should have lied.  
  
"The Council of Elrond? I sent Artuin to that, but how could you have gone? You were out in the wilderness." "Well," Artuin explained carefully, "I was traveling there, and I ran into the prince on the way. He thought he could be of use there, so I allowed him to accompany me." The king turned slowly back to Legolas, sniffing in a breath through his nose, annoyed.  
  
"You cannot just attend to your royal duties when you simply feel like it," the king snapped. Legolas' face winced, and looked nervously from his empty cup to his filled plate for help. They didn't give him any, but Gimli spoke up, "But your majesty, he has!" Thranduil turned his glare to the dwarf, aggravation burning in his eyes. Gimli continued confidently, "Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood, led a quest to take safely to Mt. Doom and destroy the One Ring! Without him, the mission would have surely met its end before the task could be completed. Because of him," Gimli said proudly, "Middle Earth has been spared!"  
  
Legolas shrunk slightly in his seat as the king blinked his eyes in surprise. After a moment, he regained himself and said, "Why, that reminds me of the time my father saved the queen of Rivendell…" Gimli looked from one elf to another, in shock that his stirring speech didn't have the effect he had wished. Legolas shot out of his seat in agitation. "Thranduil," he shouted with anger, "I am NOT your father, and I never will be!" With that, the elvish prince stormed out of the dining hall, and strode out the main doors. Gimli nervously glanced at the king, then his councilor. Artuin signaled that the dwarf should leave in a wild manner, and he thankfully complied.  
  
* * *  
  
The dwarf tracked down his hurried friend down the winding hallways as they both went deeper down into the earth. Eventually, the hallway rose up in a stone stairway, leading them both up to a room. Legolas plopped himself down on his bed, and folded his hands thoughtfully on his lap. Fearing that he would lose him, Gimli ran up the steps, and came to a sudden halt in the doorway. "May I come in?" the dwarf asked, but the prince did not respond. Gimli sighed, and took a seat next to Legolas at the foot of his bed.  
  
The dwarf gazed ahead in the same manner as the prince did. "Legolas," he said, a hint of melancholy in his voice, "I have never heard you yell like that at someone. That's fine, but don't you think you should at least talk about it?" Legolas looked sadly at his companion, then looked down at his boots. "You wouldn't understand." Gimli smirked and objected, "Of all my five brothers, I had more disputes with my father than all of them put together. You can tell me. I'll understand." The elf looked into his friend's eyes sorrowfully, then nodded.  
  
"All my life," Legolas began, "my father was always comparing me to his father, whom he thought was the most heroic and noble elf that ever lived. He always tried to mold me into a reincarnation of him, but he didn't have much success." The elf smiled sadly. "Once, I asked him if I could be instructed on how to use weapons like a warrior. He was delighted, and hired the finest swordsman in Mirkwood to teach me." Legolas looked at Gimli out of the corner of his eye and said, "My grandfather's preferred weapon was the sword, you know. That's why my father was so pressed upon getting me to learn how to use one. After awhile, I became bored by it, and secretly asked my tutor to teach me how to use a bow and arrow. My instructor complied, but my father found out when I accidentally shot his best, most prized cow." The prince cringed at the memory, and continued, "To him, I'm not his little boy, like most fathers probably think of their sons. I'm just a son full of failed aspirations that were never realized." Legolas hung his head in shame and self-pity, and Gimli patted him on the back.  
  
"I'm sure that's not how he feels," the dwarf rationalized. "All fathers feel a bit disappointed in their sons at one point or another – Heaven knows that my father was, but I don't think he's begrudged you because of it." The elf looked at his friend with hopeful eyes. "You don't think so?" Gimli smiled reassuringly, and gave the elf a few more enthusiastic pats. "I'm almost sure of it. He probably just doesn't know how to treat you. I think you're still in that awkward teenage phase where fathers and sons never get along." Gimli's face twisted, his eyes slightly widened and said, "Mine lasted for ninety-five years." Legolas laughed, and soon, Gimli joined in, making a chorus of laughter in the underground palace.  
  
* * *  
  
As the two talked through the evening and the night, the elf's eyes began to droop. The night before, he had volunteered to be lookout, and they had made a deal to switch at midnight. Well, when midnight had come, Legolas had taken pity on the dwarf's slumbering face. The past few days, Gimli had had to walk twice as fast as usual, for his stubby dwarf legs were no match for the long, hurried ones of Artuin and Legolas. Gimli took that time to fall into a deep sleep, recovering his strength. The elf had smiled at his sleeping face, and the next morning, when his friend inquired why he hadn't been awaken, Legolas shrugged and shoulders and said he forgot. He would never hurt Gimli's ego by admitting that he sometimes took pity on him.  
  
Legolas' head now rested tiredly on the bedpost next to him. Watching the elf struggle to stay awake, Gimli lied, "I'm tired. I'm going to go hit the hay." The elf nodded, and Gimli escorted him to the head of the bed, and put the covers over his friend. As Gimli walked out of the room, he said casually, "Boy, I think I'm going to just keel over and fall asleep here on the floor…" The dwarf shut the Legolas' bedroom door behind him, and smirked to himself. He knew how his companion thought – they were constantly in competition with one another, and the other always hates to quit when a challenge arises, even if it is a matter of sleep. Letting the elf think he won had been the only way he could let him fall asleep without making him feel like he "lost."  
  
Gloin's son walked down the stairwell, and looked about. In getting to Legolas' room, he had lost track of what turns and twists he had made down the hallway to get there. Gimli sighed, and marched on forward. Even though it would appear inappropriate if the dwarf was yielding a weapon, Gimli couldn't help but must his trusty hip in his hand.  
  
Soon, after walking down the hallway for quite sometime, he ran into an elf. "Ah, watch where yer going!" the dwarf shouted none too politely. When he looked up, he noticed it was the king. "Oh, I didn't know it was you…" he said weakly, trying to express his sincere regret without having to actually apologize. "I'm sure you didn't," the king replied coldly. He brushed past the dwarf. "Can you come with me? I need to talk to you." Gimli rose an eyebrow, but followed the elf.  
  
* * *  
  
A spider sat on a large branch of a tree at the edge of the Mirkwood forest. Its eight eyes were rested upon the guards at the front gate. As the spider did this, another crawled onto the tree. "Tell me," the second hissed, "have you figured out how to make the guards open the gate?" The first grinned maliciously with her eyes. "Yessss… Now, have the others burrowed their way to their assigned posts?" The second returned the look in his eyes. "Yes, they are waiting and ready."  
  
"Very well then." The first spider climbed down the tree, and walked across the ground. This would have normally been a very dangerous trek for a spider, being out in the open, but this was a very daring spider. She approached the guards, then stopped when they noticed her. They brandished their swords, and ran up to her.  
  
"Stop!" she ordered, but the elves merely pointed their swords at her. "Can you give me one good reason as to why you're out here?" an elf guard asked, gritting his teeth in despise. "Why, yes," she answered sweetly, "I came here to help you."  
  
"What are you talking about?" the other asked. "I saw that pesky dwarf walk into YOUR palace earlier today. Did you see the LOOK he gave you?" the spider said, playing on the guards' emotions. The first elf rolled back his shoulders uncomfortably and asked, "What of it?" "Oh, he was a mean one! And if he stays, more of THEM will come. You know that. Those pesky dwarves can never leave the strong and beautiful races to themselves." The spider fluttered her eyelids, trying to seem as innocent and trustworthy as possible for an eight-legged creature. "I want to do, and all your people, a favor."  
  
"Which is?" the second guard asked hesitantly. "Why, getting rid of your dwarf problem, of course. Just let me and two of my companions enter the gates. We promise, we will leave once we get the dwarf." "Do you promise to leave the elves alone?" the first elf asked naivly. "Yes, of course."  
  
The two guards exchanged glances, and nodded at one another. The second guard unlocked the gate, and opened it up. "Oh, thank you, thank you," the spider said. She began to walk inside, and as she passed the wall, two other spiders that had been hiding behind the guards jumped on their faces, smothering them. Their covered screams could not be heard by anyone within the palace.  
  
* * *  
  
Legolas' eyes opened upon hearing a strange, grinding noise. He looked to his left and to his right, but not seeing anything, he sat up. The noise became louder. He threw the covers off his legs, picked up his bow and arrows, and opened his bedroom door cautiously. 'SPIDERS!'  
  
They covered the floor, and yet more fell out of the holes that had been dug out for them by the other spiders. Along the hallway, still more tunnels were being burrowed. The pests hissed among themselves in their native language, but some cried out in the common tongue, "We're coming to get you, elves!" Legolas slipped back into his room, and silently closed the door behind him. It would be impossible to make it through the hallway without being unnoticed.  
  
The elf approached a tapestry hanging on his wall, and pulled it back. It revealed a door. On the door, on a yellow piece of paper, it said in Elvish, "Use only in case of emergency." "If this isn't an emergency," Legolas said, opening the dusty door, "I don't know what is one." With that, he walked down the stone walled hallway shrouded in cobwebs left by the invading spiders' smaller cousins.  
  
* * *  
  
Gimli sighed as he sat in a chair in the king's study. He had been listening to the elf for about an hour now, and the king stood waiting for the dwarf's reply. "It is not fair to ask me to tell you all that Legolas has told me. It would be…lying, in a way. When we became friends, we made an unspoken pact not to betray each other, and I feel that this would count as such."  
  
Thranduil sighed disappointedly, his hands folded behind his back. "I just wish I was able to better understand him. I'm sorry you can't help me." The king turned away sadly, and the dwarf opened his mouth, hoping to help him without betraying his friend's trust.  
  
At that moment, the bedroom door burst open, and a rather large black spider sat on the doorstep. Gimli's eyes widened, and he quickly searched the room for some sort of weapon. Over the fireplace were two crossed swords, and the dwarf grinned and grabbed them. He tossed one to the king and said, "It isn't my preferred weapon, but it'll do."  
  
Thranduil cocked an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Gimli ran forward and swung his sword doing at the spider as he would an ax. It was a hit, but before the warrior could celebrate, a second spider jumped on his chest.  
  
* * *  
  
"GYYAAAHHH!!" a faint cry came from behind the door before Legolas. The elf's eyes widened. "Father! Gimli!" he whispered to himself. He grabbed the knob on the door, and leaned his whole body in to push the rusted thing open. A staircase appeared before him, and he recognized it as the stairway to his father's study. 'I'm coming!' he thought to himself, and began running up the steps.  
  
"There!" another voice cried. Legolas spun around, and saw a spider come from the door he had just entered from. The elf's eyes narrowed, and he drew his bow, and took an arrow. He lined up the arrow to the spider, and released it. The spider jumped out of the way, and more spiders peeked their heads from behind the door.  
  
Legolas began running up the stairs backwards, drawing new arrows and shooting them at the growing infestation of spiders on the stairwell. The spiders crawled on top of each other, leaving behind their dead, craving a dinner of elf.  
  
* * *  
  
Gimli shouted and gasped for breath, running back and forth inside the room, waving his arms in the air. Finally, he was able to push the spider's body off his face, and threw the creature to the ground. Glaring its eyes, the spider grabbed the dwarf's dropped sword. The spider threw it through the air, but the dwarf jumped out of the way.  
  
Instead, the sword hit another spider. The first howled in anger, and went to retrieve the blade. Footsteps came from behind the door, and the king pointed his sword towards the doorway. "I think more of them are coming," he told the dwarf, as Gimli began beating the spiders with his chair.  
  
Legolas appeared in the doorway, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Good evening," he said to the two, and jumped over a spider to enter the room. Gimli ran forward and began beating it with a chair. "Count: twenty- five," Gimli said, grinning. Legolas smiled back. Oblivious to the three, a spider hid in a shadowed corner of the room, holding a dirty sword in his front two feet.  
  
"I didn't count mine," Legolas said, grinning. Gimli nodded and said, "I'm sure you can count them on one hand if the need be." The two laughed, and Legolas signaled to his father. "There's more down the stairwell." The elf prince led the way, and the other two began to follow.  
  
The spider took careful aim, then threw the sword through the air. Gimli turned around, his face lifting in horror. A sharp pain came to his side, and he made a noise and fell over. Legolas ran back up the steps, his arms pressed to the doorway. Apalled, his eyes gazed down at his fallen friend. A sword rose from his stomach.  
  
Tharanduil kneeled down next to the dwarf, then looked up at his son. Legolas' eyes turned from shock to sadness, and he collapsed to his knees, staring at his friend. The king averted his eyes to the spider, hissing in the corner, and stood up. With one well-aimed throw, the spider was extinguished. The elf puffed up his chest in satisfaction, but when he looked down at Legolas for him to share his victory, his happiness faded away.  
  
The older elf kneeled down next to his son, took his head into his arms, and rocked him gently. Looking over his father's arm, down at his friend, the prince's eyes pressed his eyelids shut. His brow lowered as his body shook with the sobs that barely emitted from his lips. "Gi-ii- mmlii-ii," he said, his voice shaking along with the rest of his body. The king said, "Shh… There there…" Thranduil continued to rock the younger elf in his arms. "Whh-yyy-yyy?" Legolas asked, tears now coming down his scrunched-up face.  
  
After a few moments of near-silence, save the sounds of Legolas' sobs and the slashing of swords down the stairwell, a voice filled the air. "Stop crying, you pansy."  
  
The prince's eyes snapped open, and he looked down at the dwarf. Gimli was scowling, possibly from Legolas' show of emotion, but most likely from the pain in his side. Legolas' mouth opened in disbelief, but he quickly wiped his face on his sleeve. "Gimli…?" he whispered. "That's my name, don't wear it out."  
  
"Somebody call a doctor! Somebody call a doctor! He's not dead!" Legolas shouted joyously, running for the door so that the guards could hear him. Gimli looked at Thranduil and smiled, and the king did the same.  
  
* * *  
  
"It was merely a flesh wound," the elvish doctor explained after wrapping Gimli's stomach. "It's a good thing he had that fat, or else it could have been more serious…" Gimli scowled and said, "What are you calling FAT?" The dwarf patted his stomach proudly and said, "It's all muscle!" The doctor shook his head, and left the room. Legolas ran after the doctor and shouted, "Are you SURE he's going to be okay?"  
  
Thranduil nervously approached the dwarf, whom was now lying on a bed on the medical room. "Do you have any good advice without telling me something I shouldn't know?" he asked quietly.  
  
Gimli thought silently for a moment and said, "What Legolas really needs is a friend. After all that he's been through, he's come to realize that it's hard to come by good friends." The king smiled and nodded, and began to leave the room. When he got to the door, he turned around. "Anything else?"  
  
The dwarf smiled and said, "Just be proud of him." The elf's eyes became glassy, and nodded his head thankfully. With that, he left down the hall in the same direction Legolas and the doctor had vanished. "I know I am," Gimli whispered to himself as he rolled over. He closed his eyes, settling into a sleep.  
  
"I should write a book…" he mumbled to himself, "How to Encourage Well-Meaning Fathers in Five Syllables or Less." 


End file.
